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Сторінка xviii
said they , “ the bird to slay " . . E . H . WEHNERT . . 500 As idle as a painted ship
upon a painted ocean . E . DUNCAN . . . . 502 Instead of the cross , the Albatross
about my neck E . H . WEHNERT . . 503 was hung . . . . . . . . . . . . S When looking ...
said they , “ the bird to slay " . . E . H . WEHNERT . . 500 As idle as a painted ship
upon a painted ocean . E . DUNCAN . . . . 502 Instead of the cross , the Albatross
about my neck E . H . WEHNERT . . 503 was hung . . . . . . . . . . . . S When looking ...
Сторінка xix
530 bird and beast . . . · · · · · · She glides along the solitary - hearted . . . . F .
CHIFFLART . . . 532 They burn ' d his cottage to the ground . . . . Felix DARLEY . .
. 535 For many a thousand bodies there . . . . . GEORGE THOMAS . . 536 On
Linden ...
530 bird and beast . . . · · · · · · She glides along the solitary - hearted . . . . F .
CHIFFLART . . . 532 They burn ' d his cottage to the ground . . . . Felix DARLEY . .
. 535 For many a thousand bodies there . . . . . GEORGE THOMAS . . 536 On
Linden ...
Сторінка 16
The Nightingale said , Bird , why does thou rave ? Man may take in his love sic
delight , Him to forget that her sic virtue gave , And for his heaven receive her
colour white : Her golden tressit hairis redomite , Like to Apollo ' s beamis tho '
they ...
The Nightingale said , Bird , why does thou rave ? Man may take in his love sic
delight , Him to forget that her sic virtue gave , And for his heaven receive her
colour white : Her golden tressit hairis redomite , Like to Apollo ' s beamis tho '
they ...
Сторінка 37
And forth they pass , with pleasure forward led , Joying to hear the birds ' sweet
harmony , Which therein shrouded from the tempest dread , Seem ' d in their
song to scorn the cruel sky . Much can they praise the trees so straight and high ,
The ...
And forth they pass , with pleasure forward led , Joying to hear the birds ' sweet
harmony , Which therein shrouded from the tempest dread , Seem ' d in their
song to scorn the cruel sky . Much can they praise the trees so straight and high ,
The ...
Сторінка 39
With that I saw two swans of goodly hue Come softly swimming down along the
lee ; Two fairer birds I yet did never see ; The snow which doth the top of Pindus
strow Did never whiter show , Nor Jove himself , when he a swan would be For ...
With that I saw two swans of goodly hue Come softly swimming down along the
lee ; Two fairer birds I yet did never see ; The snow which doth the top of Pindus
strow Did never whiter show , Nor Jove himself , when he a swan would be For ...
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appear beauty beneath bird blow born breath bright close clouds dead dear death deep delight died doth dream earth educated eyes face fair fall father fear field flowers give glory gone grace grave green hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hill hope hour Italy JOHN keep King lady land leave light live look Lord lost mind morn mother nature never night o'er once pain passed play pleasure poem poet poor praise Queen rest rise rose round seen ship sing sleep smile soft song soon sorrow soul sound spirit spring stream sweet tears tell thee things thou thought thousand true turn Twas voice wandering wave wild wind young youth
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 316 - Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates, and men decay. Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade; A breath can make them, as a breath has made : But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroy'd, can never be supplied.
Сторінка 305 - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath and near his fav'rite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he; 'The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn:' THE EPITAPH Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth A Youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown.
Сторінка 302 - Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply : And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die. For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er...
Сторінка 568 - And saw within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold. Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the Presence in the room he said, " What writest thou ?" The Vision raised its head, And with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, " The names of those who love the Lord." " And is mine one ? " said Abou. " Nay, not so,
Сторінка 68 - FEAR no more the heat o' the sun, Nor the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages. Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o...
Сторінка 417 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket...
Сторінка 299 - Await alike th' inevitable hour. The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault, If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.
Сторінка 297 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn Or busy housewife ply her evening care: No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
Сторінка 492 - Are those her ribs through which the Sun, Did peer, as through a grate ? And is that Woman all her crew ? Is that a DEATH ? and are there two ? Is DEATH that woman's mate ? Her lips were red, her looks were free, Her locks were yellow as gold : Her skin was as white as leprosy, The Night-Mare LIFE-IN-DEATH was she, Who thicks man's blood with cold. The naked hulk alongside came, And the twain were casting dice ; " The game is done ! I've won ! I've won ! " Quoth she, and whistles thrice.
Сторінка 552 - Thou, whose exterior semblance doth belie Thy Soul's immensity ; Thou best Philosopher, who yet dost keep Thy heritage, thou Eye among the blind, That, deaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep, Haunted for ever by the eternal mind, — Mighty Prophet ! Seer blest ! On whom those truths do rest, Which we are toiling all our lives to find, In darkness lost, the darkness of the grave ; Thou, over whom thy Immortality Broods like the Day, a Master o'er a Slave, A Presence which is not to be put by ;...
Бібліографічна інформація
| Назва | Favourite English poems and poets |
| Автор | English poems |
| Опубліковано | 1870 |
| Оригінал із | Оксфордський університет |
| Оцифровано | 3 сер. 2006 |
| Обсяг | 672 стор. |
| Експортувати бібліографічний опис | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |